


The Air I Would Kill To Breathe

by lit_chick08



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: First Love, Multi, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-28
Updated: 2012-03-28
Packaged: 2017-11-02 15:41:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lit_chick08/pseuds/lit_chick08
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You never forget your first love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Air I Would Kill To Breathe

**_Stefan and Katherine_ **

“I love the way you look at me,” Katherine sighed, running her fingers through Stefan's hair.

Stefan, who was resting his head against the soft curve of her stomach, smiled lazily. “How do I look at you?”

“Like I'm the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“You _are_ the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Katherine smirked playfully, scratching his scalp lightly with her nails. “And how many women have you known, Mr. Salvatore?”

“Just you,” Stefan whispered, his fingers skimming up and down her sides. “You know that.”

Katherine _did_ know that. The very first night she snuck into his room, the moment she had touched her tongue to the tip of his cock, he had blurted it out, flushing a brilliant shade of red. She knew he said it because he had thought she was also pure, that she was simply doing what other women had told her, and he wanted to assure her she did not have to “degrade” herself. It was heartbreakingly sweet, made all the sweeter when he gasped out proclamations of love as he came. 

“Yes, I've ruined you for all other women.”

Sliding up her body, Stefan carefully braced his weight on his elbows, cupping her face between his palms. “There won't _be_ any other women, Katherine. You're...You're all I'll ever want, ever _need_.”

Katherine felt something churning in her chest, a painful tangle she thought she had suppressed centuries ago; it was the burning, pulsing, ache which had always gotten her into trouble, which had gotten her banished from her home, which had gotten her entangled in Klaus's web, which had gotten her nothing but trouble. If she had learned anything in her unnaturally long life, it was to run as far away from that feeling as possible.

But Stefan was looking at her with the kindest eyes she had ever seen, was kissing her with a mouth which had only ever offered sweet words, and Katherine knew Stefan Salvatore wasn't like the boy who had filled her belly with the daughter she never got to see, wasn't like Klaus who had only ever seen the woman who had worn her face first.

All Stefan wanted to do was love her, and all Katherine wanted to do was let him.

This was her warning sign, the signal to run.

But then he whispered, “I love you so much, Katherine.”

And Katherine remembered why was the feeling in her chest was so damned troublesome, why nothing good ever came of it because she _didn't_ run.

She _couldn't_.

* * *

**_John and Isobel_ **

She had just walked out of the doors to her high school when she saw John leaning against his car at the curb, a smug smile on his face. Immediately Isobel grinned, muttering a goodbye to Trudy as she ran down the cement steps, dropping her backpack to fling her arms around John, pressing a passionate kiss to his mouth.

“Why didn't you tell me you were coming?” she asked, playfully shoving him as he bent down to grab her bag.

“I didn't want to get your hopes up if I couldn't make it,” John replied, brushing a series of kisses along her jawline. 

“And your mom was cool with you coming here?” When John didn't answer, opening the passenger's door for her, she rephrased, “Where does your mom _think_ you are?”

“Visiting Jake at college,” John answered without missing a beat. Quickly coming around the car, hopping into the driver's seat, he added, “She's not expecting me to be back until late tonight.”

Isobel felt herself blush as she considered what they could do in the next six hours. She hadn't seen John in almost two months, not since she returned to Grove Hill after their summer together; the few phone calls she was able to sneak in behind her parents' backs were never enough time, and Isobel had been missing him fiercely.

Her parents both worked until five, enough time for Isobel to call her father and request permission to have dinner and study at Trudy's house; as she expected, her father easily agreed, and John, who was leaning against the kitchen counter with a smirk, winked when she hung up and announced they had until eight o'clock, her weekday curfew.

“They keep you on a pretty short leash,” he commented as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“They're afraid horny boys are going to take advantage of me.”

John drug his teeth across the sensitive skin of her throat, sending shivers down her spine. “Then I'd hate to disappoint.”

It literally took less than twenty minutes for John to navigate to a clearing in the nearby woods and less than a minute for them to spill into the backseat, hands grasping, mouths meeting sloppily in their haste. Isobel tugged his shirt from his jeans, grinning against his lips at the way he gasped when she drug her nails over his skin.

“You're fucking evil,” John groaned as he pushed her onto her back, forcing a giggle from her lips as he stripped her of her sweater, pressing a kiss between her breasts as his fingers struggled to unhook her bra.

“And you love me, so what's wrong with you?” Isobel retorted, lifting her hips to help remove her skirt. 

Both of them moaned as they came together, skin against skin; Isobel twisted her hips impatiently as John grabbed for his jeans, trying to find his wallet and the condom Isobel knew he kept inside. She kissed and licked every inch of available skin as John continued to fumble with his wallet.

“Oh, fuck!” John suddenly snapped, drawing up onto his knees, irritation on his face.

“What's wrong?” she asked, breathless.

“Fucking Jake took my last condom. I don't have anything.”

Isobel felt her stomach sinking in disappointment before impulsively declaring, “Let's just risk it.”

John blinked in surprise. “Really?”

Isobel pulled him back down, shimmying her hips to align with his, moaning as he pressed against her. “Really. One time won't hurt.”

* * *

“You always have the best stash,” Jenna declared as the pot began to work its way through her system, loosening every inch of her body, a familiar peace stealing over her.

“I'm spending that trust fund well, an ounce at a time,” Mason replied with a laugh, tossing his lighter onto his bedside table.

“God bless you for it.” Jenna closed her eyes for a moment, letting her head loll to the side, before asking, “I can't believe your mom lets us hang out in your room with the door closed.”

“Well, after she caught Mandy Osborne giving me head, I think she knows that shipped has sailed.” Idly drawing his fingers through her hair, he added, “Besides, Mrs. Fell told her you're obsessed with Logan, so she thinks you're safe.”

“I'm not _obsessed_ with Logan. I'm not _anything_ with Logan. I deserve better than Logan Scum Fell.”

“A-fucking-men.” Dropping down beside her, Mason rolled his head to face her, his hazel eyes sparkling as he smiled. “For the record, if you ever get back with him again, I'm going to kick his ass. Like, _bad_. The only way he's going to be on the news is as a story of the victim of a brutal beating.”

Jenna smiled despite herself. “He's not worth it. Besides, I'd miss you too much if you went to prison.”

“Of course you would. I'm fucking awesome.” Mason reached down and took her hand, turning it over and tracing the lines of her palm with one fingertip like a palm reader. Jenna closed her eyes again, allowing the simple pleasure of his touch to lull her. 

“So I've decided we're going to get married.”

Jenna opened her eyes, looking at Mason in confusion. “How much of that have you smoked?”

Glaring playfully, Mason insisted, “I'm serious. We're going to get married.”

“Why?”

“Because we're in love,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh, we are?”

Mason nodded wisely. “As soon as we stop being fuck-ups, we'll figure that out and then we'll get married.”

“Do I get a say in this?” she laughed.

“You're going to _want_ to marry me, Jay. I figure, by the time we're thirty, we'll have our shit together and then it'll be cool. Then we'll be ready. Because if we dated now, it'd be a fucking disaster because we're messes.”

Jenna was quiet for a moment, studying the strong lines of Mason's body, moved by the absolute truth she read in his face, before murmuring, “Thirty, huh?”

Rolling onto his stomach, grinning widely at her, he declared, “The year Mystic Falls turns 150, we're getting married. Mark your calendar.”

* * *

**_Elena and Matt_ **

“I can't believe we're doing this,” Elena gasped into Matt's mouth as he fumbled with his belt, pushing his pants down.

“Do you want to stop?” he panted, his hands reflexively squeezing her thighs, a pained expression crossing his features at the idea of having to suddenly reverse course.

She quickly shook her head, leaning back on her hands, canting her hips upward. Matt needed no further encouragement, carefully pushing his way into her body, shuddering from the newness of being able to have sex without a barrier. They moaned at the sensation, Elena reaching for him with one arm, needing his mouth, needing to kiss him as confirmation that this wasn't a dream, that they were actually having sex on the washing machine in the Hamiltons' laundry room, the party still raging outside the locked door.

“You feel so good,” Matt groaned against her ear. “Jesus, 'Lena...”

“I love you,” Elena moaned, catching his bottom lip between her teeth, tugging it gently before soothing it with her tongue. “Oh, _fuck_ , Matty, don't stop!”

His thumb never ceasing pressure on her clit, it only took three deep thrusts to send them both over the edge, having perfect the art of the rushed hook-up over the past two years. As Elena's muscles still fluttered around him, Matt kissed her tenderly, echoing back her declaration of love.

The moment they stepped out of the laundry room, Tyler was standing there, a knowing smirk which made Elena blush ferociously on his lips before telling Matt, “Man, Vicki's in a bad way. You might want to get her home.”

Sighing in frustration, Matt looked down at her, an expression of penance on his face. “I should really - “

“Of course,” she interrupted. 

“You don't have to leave if you don't want. I won't be offended or anything. This is going to be more fun than cleaning up Vick's vomit.”

Elena considered for a moment before admitting, “I _would_ like to stick around a little while longer. I'll see you tomorrow though, right?”

Matt smiled, brushing a kiss across her lips. “Yeah, of course. You sure you have a ride home?”

She nodded easily. “I'll just call Mom.”

* * *

**_Vicki and Jeremy_ **

Vicki knew she was a slow-motion car crash; it wasn't as if she wasn't aware of the fact she would be lucky to get out of the twelfth grade, her only career prospects were being promoted from waitress to bartender at the Grill, and everyone in town thought she was drug-addicted trash. She might have been bad news, but Vicki wasn't _stupid_.

But fucking Jeremy Gilbert after his parents' funeral because she felt guilty and he looked so sad? _That_ was fucking _retarded_.

And now, now he kept looking at her like she hung the fucking moon and wanting to know when they could hang out again, and Vicki knew this might just have been the dumbest thing she has ever done in her life.

Tonight the Grill was getting slammed; two waitresses had called off, she was covering three sections, and the assistant manager was giving her shit about her shirt being too short. By the time Jeremy rolled in around eight, Vicki was not in the mood for cradling fragile teen emotions.

As she stopped at his table to take his order, he immediately launched into his kicked puppy eyes and questions about hanging out, and Vicki couldn't take it anymore. “Look, I've got about fifteen tables to cover plus clean-up, not to mention that my house is a fucking disaster area that _I'm_ going to have clean and I haven't eaten all goddamn day. So unless you're going to order a burger, I don't have time to talk to you!”

Jeremy stared at her with his big, brown eyes, hurt flashing briefly before he muttered an apology, got to his feet, and left, his shoulders slouched beneath his oversized hoodie, his hair hanging over his face. Vicki felt bad but she knew this was the best thing to do; Jeremy didn't really want _her_. He was just happy someone other than himself had touched his dick, and he was looking to relive the experience.

It was after eleven when she finally got off work; as she drove home, she tried to remember what was left in the pantries, what she'd be able to eat and still have enough left over for Matt. She didn't get paid for another two days, and they were down to almost nothing, her mother hanging forgotten to send a check this month.

She threw her keys and purse on the couch as she headed towards the kitchen and the sound of movement. “Matty?”

Rounding the corner, Vicki froze at the sight of Jeremy standing in her now spotless kitchen, a variety of casserole dishes on the kitchen table.

“Matt let me in,” Jeremy quickly defended. “I didn't break in or anything. I just thought...Well, you said you had a lot of work to do and it's really weird at my house right now, plus we have, like, ten thousand pounds of food people brought us so I thought...” Shifting uncomfortably, he offered, “I can go.”

The tears came so quickly, Vicki blushed as she wiped them away. This was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her, and it was from the guy she had treated like shit three hours earlier, the guy who had offered to leave without getting anything in return.

“No,” she rasped. “No, you can stay.”

Jeremy smiled, his entire face lighting up with the movement, and Vicki felt her heart flutter unexpectedly as she realized how _beautiful_ Jeremy Gilbert was.

She wouldn't mind seeing him smile at her like that more often.


End file.
